


Flour Tin

by thawrecka



Category: Smallville
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-03
Updated: 2003-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:35:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thawrecka/pseuds/thawrecka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martha's obsessed with that little disc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flour Tin

It wears on her mind while she does her work in the morning, feeding the cows and sweeping the house. She worries about it. Is it exuding radiation into the surroundings, poisoning the flour and slowly killing them all? Will it figure out a way to get back to the ship and fly through the side of the tin straight into the cellar? Not all the thoughts are sensible.

She thinks on it while brewing coffee. Would it heat up in the summer sun and burn skin? What does it taste like? Would it dent if struck by a hammer or falling from a great height onto concrete?

She thinks about it when Clark comes home from school, when washing up the dishes and when Jonathon kisses her at night.

 

It's almost like it hums. Really, Martha knows it doesn't but she feels there should be a sound to match the way it vibrates in her mind.

She rolls over in bed, stuffs her head in the pillow, but she can't get it out of her mind. Ever since she stole it back from Lionel she hasn't been able to forget about it for a moment. It even invades her dreams; soft and cool, small, but trembling urgently.

She sighs, trying desperately to think about nothing and just fall asleep. Jonathon is warm and comfortable next to her, snoring gently, and she burrows into him. It doesn't work. She's so tired she could almost cry.

Eventually she gives up, and rolls out of bed, walking down to the kitchen. She takes the flour tin out of the cupboard, and digs through the flour until she has the disc in her hand. She brushes the flour off it and strokes it with the tips of her fingers. She hopes Clark doesn't come down here and see her sitting on the floor of the kitchen in her nightgown with a tin of flour on her lap and the disc to his ship in her hand.

She rests there for a moment, leaning against the cupboard a little.

When she hears a noise she panics and puts the disc deep under the flour, again, closes the lid and puts the tin back in the cupboard. She gets up, brushes herself off, and gets a glass of water.

Clark clunks his way into the kitchen. "Mom?"

"I couldn't sleep, honey. I thought maybe a glass of water would help," she tells him.

Clark smiles with tired eyes. "Me, too."

She pours him a glass of water and they sit at the table next to each other and drink in silence. She puts her arm around her boy, brushes the hair out of his eyes and kisses him on the forehead. They stay like that until he shuffles back to his room, leaving her alone in the quiet, dark kitchen.


End file.
